


Party Planning

by ritalara



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Smut, F/M, FitzSimmons Secret Santa, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Roommates, Sci-Ops Era (Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.), Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 11:42:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17223416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ritalara/pseuds/ritalara
Summary: Fitz & Simmons have recently become roommates and Jemma is planning to host a holiday party. Fitz is less than pleased.





	Party Planning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sunalso](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunalso/gifts).



> FitzSimmons Secret Santa Gift Exchange! 
> 
> Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays & Happy New Year to @sunalso - my giftee - and to the wonderful FitzSimmons fic community!

“So, do you like it?”

“It’s fake.”

“What?”

Fitz eyed the large plastic monument up and down.

“It's fake.”

“Well...yes, but it's still a tree.”

“A fake tree.”

Jemma stared at the faux evergreen perched in the corner of their apartment and huffed.

“This way we get our money’s worth.”

“Our money?”

“Yes. I used some of the apartment fund.”

“Simmons!”

“We specifically put money in for decor.”

“That's for things like furniture and dishes.”

“Dishes are in the home goods budget.”

“Simmons.”

“FITZ.”

She turned her back to him as she started hanging baubles on the tree and he sighed.

“Okay, we have a tree.”

He walked up behind her and began looking at the ornaments, starting to recognize some.

“Wait did you - did my mum send these?”

“Yes. She phoned me and asked if we needed anything - and thanked me in advance for making sure you don’t spend the entirety of your twenties subsisting on pizza and takeout.”

“Har har. Did you ask her to send them?”

“Yes - I knew I wanted to get a tree - especially for the party - and-”

“What?”

“Oh! Saturday. Do you mind?”

As always, she was three steps ahead of him.

“Do we even know enough people to throw a party?”

“Yes. We work in a lab with 26 other scientists in a building with 722 other SHIELD agents...”

“Name ten of them you want to spend more than two hours with.”

“Oh Fitz.”

“You already sent out invites didn’t you?”

“Well it is less than a week away.”

“I guess I don’t really have a choice then.”

He set down the ornament that reminded him of his gran and Jemma scoffed.

“Well if you really don't want to have people over I could cancel.”

“Simmons. You’ve known me for years. Is there anything about me that makes you think I want to have a bunch of people in our home?”

Jemma’s rebuttal caught in her chest as she found herself inexplicably delighted at the reference.

“Come on. It’ll be fun. We even have a tree.”

“A fake tree.”

“Fitz!”

“Fine.”

He knew better than to try and argue with her and he supposed it could be fun to hang out and play games and drink too much cider...he just thought it would be more fun to do that only the two of them.

“I’ll make spice cookies.”

“And Christmas cake?”

“And Christmas cake.”

“And you won’t make me decorate.”

“You absolutely have to help decorate.”

“What?”

“Fitz it is your house too. You also can't sit in your room the whole time.”

“Okay I'm not that much of a loser.”

“I didn’t say that.”

Her voice was laced with a familiar frustration.

“You were thinking it.”

“I was not! I just know you well enough to know that you’ll avoid the party if you’re left to your own devices. But if you actually participate you’ll have fun and be glad you did.”

He sighed again, picking up another ornament.

“Did you already get other decorations?”

He prepared himself to complain at how much money she had spent.

“No - I thought we could go together?”

That he didn’t mind as much.

___

 

As they perused the isles of the party store, Fitz was even grumpier than he had been about the tree.

“Four bloody dollars for tinsel? This is highway robbery.”

“It is not. Look - it's three dollars seventy five cents for three meters of tinsel - that’s reasonable.”

“What do we even need tinsel for? I could put together lights in the lab and we wouldn’t have to buy anything. I could even do some color patterns.”

“Fitz, that's - that's nice, really - but we don’t have time for you to fuss with something. Let’s get some lights here, and tinsel & garland and mistletoe - we should get a wreath too and-”

“Absolutely not.”

“What?”

“No mistletoe.”

“Fitz,” she exasperated.

It felt like he was fighting her at every turn and Jemma was liable to tear the tinsel in her hands to shreds if he didn't let up.

“What if I get stuck under it with someone?”

She plopped the tinsel in to her basket.

“It would probably do you some good.”

“Hey!”

“Well it might! You seem very...on edge.”

He looked at her for a moment, and anger flashed in his eyes as he gritted through his teeth.

“I’ll meet you in the car.”

As Fitz huffed out to their sedan he shoved his hands angrily in his pockets.

It was bad enough that he had to contend with an onslaught of intruders in their apartment and now they were spending money to hang garish accoutrements around the place - of course he was on edge.

As he shoved himself in to the drivers seat his irritation fizzled and he thought again how much he’d prefer to be spending that Saturday evening just the two of them. The tree really wasn't that bad and he pictured them on the couch enjoying a favorite Christmas film with lights strung around their living room.

It would be nice to enjoy their first Christmas together - as roommates - and he found himself both disappointed and almost offended that she wanted to go and ruin it by getting other people involved.

___

 

The drive home was silent and Jemma felt bad for her earlier teasing.

Although it was true - he did seem quite...pent up - and all of his bubbling frustrations seemed to be about more than the party. She absentmindedly wondered how long it had been since he'd...

She quickly shook the thought away, admonishing herself for it and turned her focus to what she could do about their actual argument.

She knew living together would put their friendship to the test but she hadn’t considered they’d hit such a rough patch so quickly in to it. It wasn't as if she intended to invite the neighborhood over every weekend, but it was Christmas and they had a new place and she knew that they would both have a good time once things got under way.

As they arrived home they unloaded their spoils in continued quiet, and as Jemma started to pull things out of bags, he sighed again and began to help.

“So who’s coming to this thing anyway?”

His tone was clipped but slightly gentler than it had been and she considered it as him making an effort.

“A few people - I invited Pramila, Andre, Milton, I suppose I should ask Sally-”

“MILTON?”

“Yes. Milton. I invited all of our labmates.”

“No, you invited all of your labmates.”

“Oh - I suppose you’re...I’m sorry - do you have people you’d like to invite?”

“Anyone but Milton that’s for damn sure.”

“Fitz - really. Are you just going to be sour about everything?”

“Maybe,” he grumbled.

“Well then fine you don’t have to be here.”

She snatched a bag from the coffee table and brought it to the kitchen, busying herself with the ingredients for the next day's treats.

“It’s my house!”

“I thought it was our house.”

Jemma didn't look at him as she snapped back.

“Well so did I but then you went and invited a bunch of people over without asking.”

“You would have said no!”

“Oh is that how this works? You know I won’t want to do something so you make plans anyway?”

“You never want to do anything!”

She plopped a bag of flour firmly on the counter and looked at him with a warring gaze.

Jemma immediately regretted the hyperbole of her statement when she saw the hurt hinting in his eyes but she was quite done with his attitude at this point.

“Whatever Jemma.”

He turned toward his room and Jemma didn’t see him again before she went to bed.

___

 

Fitz awoke to the banging of pots and pans in the kitchen and it only took him a few minutes to realize what Jemma was up to.

He wondered immediately if he could hole up in his room until people started to arrive, but he realized he’d have to pee and eat eventually.

After using the toilet and the shower, he walked out to the kitchen with his shoulders back and awaited the verdict.

He smelled both eggs and baked goods in the air and eyed the stovetop curiously. The remnants of her morning meal seemed to have already been cleaned up, and he went to start toast and tea for himself.

“Morning,” he offered quietly.

Jemma didn’t answer - focused on measuring the ingredients in front of her, but a moment later she spoke.

“Mind the oven - it's preheating.”

Fitz took heed and set about frying an egg for himself. Neither of them engaged any further as they both worked in silence. The quiet turned from awkward to pained in short time, and after Fitz had eaten his breakfast quickly, he started to survey the decorations placed out carefully in staging.

He considered leaving her to do it herself but thought better of it. He knew she was mad at him and she had maybe some merit toward that, so he decided he would at least try to assist.

“Do you want me to start hanging these?”

She stopped what she was doing at the mixer and considered for a moment before responding.

“Yes. Thank you. I’d really appreciate it.”

As Fitz pulled out their small step ladder, he brought out a level, hammer, and tacks as well, and set to work putting up the overpriced tinsel & garland.

When he made his way toward the tree he noticed that a seemingly authentic scent was wafting from it and as he looked around for the source he noticed a vase of balsam branches artfully situated on a side table. As he turned toward Jemma to make comment she let out a screech.

“OW!”

He whipped his head around and noticed immediately that she had ripped her hand from the burner of the stove.

“Jemma!”

He rushed to her side and reached out to start running water as she slid her hand under it. Fitz held her arm, looking over the bright pink skin suffering across the side of her hand, and rubbed his thumb under her wrist.

“I’m so sorry, did I leave the burner on?”

“No - it was just still warm - it’s not your fault.”

“Ruddy stove. It should give a better indication when the top is still hot.”

She caught the focus of his concern for her and Jemma felt a warmth in her stomach that didn't seem related to the light throb of her injury.

“Perhaps.”

He held her forearm in his hands, directing her fingers under the streaming water.

“I should keep it under here for a few minutes.”

“Okay.”

He didn’t move and Jemma felt a soft blanket of affection settle over her as she watched him eye her hand intently. After a minute or two Fitz realized he was still holding her.

“Sorry. I don’t mean to crowd you, I just -”

He finished the sentence to himself, acknowledging that he was eager to take care of her and Jemma protested.

“No it's fine - its ...it's nice.”

They stood there then in a much more comfortable silence, and when she deemed her injury ready for care, Fitz quickly jumped to get the first aid kit. 

His touch was caring as he helped glide healing ointment on to her burn, and Jemma held one edge of the bandage as he wrapped it around her hand, holding her fingers gently in his hands.

As Fitz finished his work he found himself struck with the urge to kiss the top of her hand. He tried to shake off the thought and patted the uninjured parts of it instead before letting go.

“Can I help finish the baking?”

“No - I’ll be fine. The cookies are in the oven and just need to come out in a few minutes and then the cake will go in. Do you mind finishing with the rest of that?”

She gestured toward the remaining decor.

“Not at all.”

As Fitz started to step away, Jemma reached out with her good hand to his shoulder.

He looked at her in question and her gaze was tender.

“Thank you.”

The sound of her voice seemed to shoot itself right in to his chest and his own was soft as he responded.

“Of course.”

She shared a small smile with him before he went back to work, and soon most of the trimmings were hung with attention. As Fitz picked up the last of it, he pulled out the dredded mistletoe.

“Simmons. You know this is basically a parasite, right?”

She looked at him with confusion and then irritation that turned quickly in to mirth.

“You don’t say?”

“Yeah. It’s toxic too.”

“I had no idea.”

“It kills other plants that it grows on even.”

“You don’t say.”

Her voice was bored as she responded, sifting powdered sugar in to a bowl, and Fitz opened his mouth to regal her with another disturbing fact when-

“You’re winding me up.”

“Me?”

Her smirk was hidden poorly and Fitz held back his own grin, determined to be annoyed.

“Well I won’t say I told you so when our guests are blocking the doorway slobbering all over each other.”

He stepped up to place it above the front door and Jemma commented cheekily.

“That’s the point isn't it?”

Fitz rolled his eyes and muttered.

“I’ll just make sure Milton stays clear of it.”

“What’s that?”

“Nothing.”

“Did you say something about Milton?”

“Just...to make sure he doesn’t try to trap you under here - or anyone else for that manner.”

“What?”

“Milton. I’ll make sure he doesn't corner you under the mistletoe.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Jemma.”

He was finished and facing her know, chin pointed down with his eyes raised.

“Seriously?”

“You think...Milton would - that he’s interested in me?”

He nodded with a heavy air of irritation and before she could inquire further, the oven timer went off.

___

The afternoon caught up with them and eventually it was time for Jemma to start getting ready.

“Everything’s set out and the cake is in the fridge. I put some cookies for you on the table and I put aside enough for tomorrow so stay out of the rest. Do you think you could set up the bar while I’m in the shower?”

“Yeah...I hope you got enough booze.”

“What?”

“You know how Tanner & Lopez like to tie one on,” he added, as he walked toward the small bar cart in the kitchen.

“Did you invite them?”

Jemma’s tone was somewhere between confused and disgusted.

“...Yes...?”

“Who else did you invite?”

“Pak & Knott .”

“Are you really that mad at me?”

“What?”

As far as Jemma was concerned he had invited the engineering department equivalent of a frat house.

“Fitz! You invited them just to spite me.”

“I did not! You hadn’t invited any of my workmates so I told some of them.”

She opened her mouth to argue but it was a lost cause at this point. They were coming and that was that.

“I’m getting in the shower.”

As she walked away he wanted to throw up his arms and call the whole thing off. It had become such a point of contention that he worried it was going to have a lasting negative effect on them. 

Fitz couldn't help it as his mind flitted again to the picture in his head of the two of them settled on the couch enjoying the evening. He could make spaghetti and they could enjoy a drink or two and talk about the projects they had in progress and reminisce about the Christmas traditions they missed from back home.

As his mind wandered he felt the picture in his head come in to focus and it was both surprising and not when it featured his arm draped around her shoulders and Jemma cuddled in to his side. His stomach rolled in confusion and dismay at his own daydream and he grabbed a cookie - quieting his brain with a dose of sugar.  
___

An hour later, drinks & decor were well sorted and Fitz had set up the stereo to mix through the CDs Jemma had requested. She was still in her room getting herself together and he was dressed and ready, still dreading the onslaught of interlopers. He picked at the corners of the label on his beer bottle as he sipped it, and his knee bounced as he considered turning on the tv to at least keep himself distracted as he waited.

When a knock at the door interrupted his reverie he was simultaneously relieved and uncomfortable.

As he stood to move, Jemma seemed to jump in to his peripheral view, and she hit the entryway before he had fully gotten off the couch.

She took a breath before opening and was greeted by Abramowitz and...Milton.

“Hello!”

“Chag sameach”

Seth handed her a bottle of wine as they stepped inside and Bradley leaned in for a hug.

Fitz wanted to punch him in the nose.

Suddenly a pit formed in his stomach as he eyed the mistletoe above them and Fitz rushed to Jemma’s side, grabbing the wine.

“Come on in! Let’s open this up!”

In a completely uncharacteristic move, he slapped Milton on the back and guided him toward the kitchen.

___

 

More guests arrived as the hour faded away, and it was a fairly tame evening of mingling and mulled wine. It was a reasonable hour still when things started to wind down, most of the remaining guests discussing where they might head next.

Jemma was in the kitchen setting aside some dirty glasses when the mistletoe above the door caught her eye. She noticed that Fitz had been avoiding it like the plague all night and it started to dawn on her that Sally seemed to be coaxing him toward the arch where it was situated.

He’d never forgive her if he got manhandled by Sally Webber at the party he never even wanted to throw. She had to do something. 

“Fitz can you help me over here!”

Her voice was shrill and despite their ongoing irritation at each other over the past couple days, Fitz heeded her request.

He excused himself and stepped away to the kitchen.

“Simmons - what’s up?”

“Can you take out the recycle?”

“Now?”

“It's full.”

He opened his mouth to argue but there was something pleading behind her eyes that made him decide otherwise.

“Sure.”

She handed him the bin and as he started toward the front door she realized the garbage could go out as well.

“Here Fitz - this too please.”

As Jemma reached out to him they both crossed under the threshold of the front door.

“MistletOHHHHHH!” Tanner shouted - as had become the custom of the night,

Fitz froze, rubbish in each hand.

Of all the ways he’d pictured kissing Jemma Simmons this had not made it anywhere on the list.

Not that he’d ever pictured kissing Jemma Simmons.

She looked up and realized what she’d done, eyes wide, her gaze returned to him and she grimaced. His facial expression punched her right in the gut and she was almost woozy with disgust at herself.

Not only had she forced him in to throwing the party but she had also talked him into the stupid mistletoe and unintentionally put him in this awful position.

Even worse however was that she realized in that moment how much she wanted to kiss him.

She wanted to be pulled against him as he sank his mouth in to hers.

She wanted to settle against his chest and nestle in to his arms and press her lips against his.

She wanted to feel the warmth of his breath and the tickle of his stubble and the - 

“Simmons.”

She realized how long she’d been staring.

“We don’t have t-”

Jemma hopped to her toes and kissed him as quickly as she could before turning back to the kitchen without another thought.

Two of their colleagues laughed while another booed and she could swear she heard Webber snicker. Fitz was right - they really didn't know ten people worth hanging out with.

Fitz felt terrible as he surveyed the hecklers he had invited - and even worse that he had somehow gotten Jemma in to a position where she was forced to kiss him.

She was clearly almost repulsed by it with how quickly she had run away and he had no idea how he was going to turn this around.

“Wait, are you out of booze?”

One of the ne'er do wells that had made it on to his invite list took a gander at the recycle bin and as Fitz began to say he was pretty sure there was more beer in the refrigerator, Jemma opened it and quite obviously feigned her answer.

“Oh we are! I’m so sorry. I guess I didn’t plan very well.”

Fitz had to hold back a guffaw at the ridiculousness of her statement, and a glint of pride shown through as she caught his eye.

He fought back a wink.

“Well, no offense, but if the drinks are gone, so are we,” Lopez said.

“Thanks for the good time Fitz. Simmons - the food was really good,” Knott added

They gathered up their coats, and Pak was courteous enough to volunteer to take the garbage & recycle as they went. 

Jemma watched as Sally lingered and found a small amount of comfort in the fact that Fitz seemed wholly uninterested in her presence. As he closed the door, she was close behind him and he felt her heavy sigh hit the back of his neck.

“Thank god.”

“Party not such a resounding success?”

“Don’t start with me. You sabotaged it.”

“I did not!”

“You invited LOPEZ & TANNER.”

“They like a party!”

“Likely story.”

“Hey! I know you’re upset with me but don’t accuse me of lying.”

She opened her mouth to argue back immediately and expelled a breath instead.

“Fine. Apology excepted.”

“Thank you - wait, I didn’t-”

“ - and you’re welcome for keeping you out of Sally Webber’s clutches.”

Jemma continued picking up the remaining plastic dishware strewn around the living room.

“What?”

“She was trying not very subtly to move you under the mistletoe.”

“She what - wait - is that why you asked me to take out the garbage?”

“Yes. Like I said. You’re welcome.”

“What? Wait. You - did you come over here too on purpose?”

“What? No! That was an accident. I really just wasn't thinking.”

“But you were watching me with Sally?”

“Not watching, just-”

“Were you trying to -”

“To what?”

“To keep her away from me?”

Fitz was floored. He’d never seen Jemma show so much interest in someone who might be showing interest in him.

“No. Well yes - but only - I was trying to help you out.”

“How so?”

“By helping you avoid the mistletoe...did you WANT to get stuck under there with her?”

Her eyes were wide as the option crossed her mind.

“No. I mean. Not necessarily. I just don’t understand why you would automatically think I didn’t.”

“I just... I never - she’s always throwing herself at you and you’ve never - I assumed you weren’t interested.”

“What?”

“Would you stop saying that? What don't you understand?”

“All of this! You’ve been all over the place all week!”

Fitz threw up his hands and her open mouth conveyed her disbelief.

“I’VE been all over the place? First you throw a tantrum about having a few people over then you’re barely speaking to me and then you try to sabotage the party.”

“Hey! I said I-”

“Don’t even start Fitz.”

He stared at her for a moment and felt his blood start to boil again. This damned party was ruining everything.

With a turn, he began ripping down decorations.

“Hey! Be careful! There’s no need to get angry.”

“What do you want from me Jemma?”

He flipped around, garland in his hand and heat in his stance.

“I want you to be more supportive!”

“What?”

“You could have at least tried to make an effort Fitz. It's our first time having people over to our place and I told you I wouldn’t make it a regular thing because I know it's not your favorite and even though you know I really like to entertain I am willing to compromise and you’re not willing to do the same and I don’t think that's fair. That’s not how a relationship works.”

Her words were quick & measured and she breathed out as she finished, crossing her arms.

“A relation - what? Are you still talking about the party?”

“I’m talking about us. We live together now and just because most of our relationship is effortless maybe this isn’t and we might have to work at it, okay?”

Relationship. The word seemed to do something strange to his insides.

“Okay...”

His heart was still pounding and Fitz couldn't displace the notion that there was more behind her words.

“Okay. Do you want me to help you take the directions down then or should we wait until morning?”

He looked around and decided it could probably wait. Except for the booby trap above the door.

“Let’s at least take the damn mistletoe down. I don't want to accidentally force you in to kissing me again.”

He turned his back on her and began to reach up for it as she stepped over to him.

“Fitz. Don’t say that. You didn’t force me in to anything.”

“Come on Simmons - I saw the look on your face, you would have rather been kissing a specimen from the lab.”

Fitz fiddled with the hook that was just out of reach and then collapsed his arm, starting to look around for something to stand on. He walked to the kitchen table to grab a chair and as he walked it back over he took notice of the hurt on her face.

“What’s wrong?”

“That’s not true.”

“What?”

“That's not true.”

Her eyes were pained and fixed on him.

“What?”

“Fitz. That's not true.”

She didn't move.

“What do you mean?”

“I wouldn't rather kiss a lab specimen.”

“What?”

“I wouldn't rather kiss a lab specimen than kiss you.”

“Okay,” he chuckled, “Maybe it's not that dire. But I’m sorry either way. Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“Is that really what you think?”

“What?”

“That I really disliked kissing you that much?”

He sighed.

“Don't worry about it - let’s just let it go. Really, after the week we’ve had let’s just -”

“Answer my question.”

“What question is that then?”

His voice showed his fatigued from the continuous deciphering of her statements.

“Do you think I didn’t want to kiss you?”

“No of course, I - I just meant that it was obviously unpleasant for you and-”

“No it wasn’t.”

“What?”

“It wasn’t unpleasant.”

“Simmons. I’m completely lost.”

She had thrown him for such a damn loop that whole evening that he’d completely lost track of which way was up.

She stepped forward, both of them settled face to face under the doorway again.

“It wasn’t unpleasant,” she told him matter of factly, “I didn’t dislike it. I wasn’t forced.”

“So you what - you're...what are you saying?”

His eyes flickered from confusion to what looked strikingly like a glimmer of hope and the tightness in Jemma’s stomach turned to butterflies.

“I didn’t want you kiss Sally...I wanted you to kiss me.”

There it was. 

She was done fighting. Done pretending. Done holding in things that were bound to eventually bubble over.

Before Fitz could react verbally his body was telling him what it so desperately wanted him to do, and his hands were in her hair, pulling her mouth to his.

As their lips crashed together she let out a noise of surprise, and he started to pull back to apologize for the intrusion but she changed his course as she kissed him back with noisy intent. Her response was nearly a whine and he pillowed his mouth back in to hers, their noses smooshing together as they expelled breaths in to each other.

“Fitz...”

Her utterance of his name was barely intelligible as her hands wrapped around his, holding them to her face. He kissed back firmly in response and as his mouth opened and closed against hers Jemma stood rooted in her spot.

She was completely taken aback by his forcefulness, and if his lips were any indication she was not the only one of them that had been thinking about this. The idea excited her and Jemma’s own hands moved to grab his face as well, suctioning their mouths together.

Fitz followed her heightened motions, and on the next pass of air between them, he slipped his tongue in to her mouth, eliciting a moan that shot straight from her mouth down his legs. Before he knew what he was doing he had her backed against the door, one hand in her hair and the other sliding down the front of her shirt, circling around her breast before cupping it experimentally in his hand. As he squeezed it in his palm she moaned gently and it was like the synapses of his brain all turned back on at the same time.

In a flood of confusion and desire, with a million questions threatening to cascade out of him, he parted his mouth from hers regrettably.

“Jemma what are we doing?”

“Kissing.”

She mouthed back at him, pulling his face back to hers.

“Do you want me to stop?”

His voice was gravel.

“No.” 

He was swift as he pressed her against the door again, and Jemma held his face to her still. Their heated kisses stoked a fire inside of her that she didn't have time to analyze, and as she opened her mouth further his tongue found his way into her mouth again and she moaned as she pulled him closer, welcoming the intrusion. His body on hers was like wildfire scorching across her center. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders as she pulled him in, not allowing a sliver of space between them, and Fitz followed.

His hand seemed to have a mind of its own as it found its way to the buttons of her blouse, fumbling for the opening, and as he got a few buttons undone it slipped through the fluttering material to palm her breast. They both moaned at the contact and she sucked at his tongue immediately, arching herself in to his hand.

Jemma felt a sharp ache in her jeans and immediately the heat inside her started to consume.

She needed to get her clothes off.

Her hands moved to get the rest of her shirt off as they continued kissing, the angle slightly awkward, and Fitz fixated on the feel of her. He was too overwhelmed by his other senses to open his eyes and he vaguely registered her shuffling around until her shirt was on the floor. His eyes fluttered open as she came back to him and he tried to take in what was happening.

The display of skin in front of him was alarming and he pulled back - eyes bouncing over the curves of her torso.

“Jemma, what are we doing?”

“Making out?”

“Why?”

“Because I want to. We want to. Right?”

Her pecks against his lips didn’t help him feel like he could answer that question with a clear head.

“I - yes - we - I - you - we both want this...right?”

“Right.”

“Right.”

He went back in for more and as she began to kiss him more deeply he stopped again.

“Can I touch you?”

His words were throaty against her mouth and she nodded.

“Please.”

Both hands maneuvered up her stomach and over bra and he kissed her again and again and again as he fondled her breasts. 

Her hands went to his hips, fingers resting against his belt, and she pulled his pelvis towards hers as he continued.

When his groin swiped across hers she knew she needed more. She needed him. When her fingers went to his belt buckle she had to stop herself.

“Fitz.”

“Mmm?”

He had continued kissing down her neck, not breaking his stride, and he massaged her vigorously with both hands.

“What do you want?”

“This.”

His mouth continued down and as his lips inched closer to the cup of her bra she sighed, her desire at the forefront of her thoughts.

“What does this mean to you?”

“This. You. I want you.”

He was undistracted by her questions, tongue running down her cleavage and she moaned again.

“Oh Fitz, yes please.”

“Take off your bra.”

She did so quickly and as soon as it dropped to the floor his mouth was on her nipple.

She moaned a high pitch and his tongue sent a pulse straight to her clit.

“Oh god, yes!”

She reached for the button on her jeans and undid them in a fit, reaching over top the cotton of her underwear to run a hand over her aching peak.

“Jemma...” he groaned as he lapped against her skin.

“Touch me...please touch me.”

He had to unlatch from her to get his hand in a better position, and the world fell away as he eyed down her torso to where her fingers were sliding slowly down her open jeans. He cupped a hand on top of them and as soon as the heat radiating from her hit his fingers he moaned, forehead falling to her chest. He began rubbing against her clit and Jemma dropped her own hand, moaning out at his touch.

“Take them off,” she breathed, head lolled back against the door.

Fitz was out of his mind with lust for her and didn't spare a second to think before pulling at both her jeans and her underwear.

She jutted out her hips as he brought them down, focused on getting them over her calves and off her feet along with her shoes, and he shoved the pile of clothing away quickly. As he started to stand he caught a glimpse of her, shining with arousal, and with no other thought his mouth brought his tongue to her wetness.

She cried out and her hand went immediately to his hair as she slammed her naked body against the door, and as if he had been possessed by a much more experienced man, he sucked her into his mouth as he grabbed her hips.

His tongue was quick and strong against her and before she knew what was happening Jemma felt herself start to rise. If she'd had the headspace to consider what was happening she would have watched him, but in the moment she was all consumed by the frissoning energy all pooling at her core.

“Fitz...” she began, hand lax in his hair, “Fitz, Fitz, Fitz...”

The pitch of her voice went up as she continued, and his name seemed to be the only word she could manage as his tongue pushed her pleasure higher and higher.

“Oh, Fitz, yes, Fitz, Fitz, Fitz...”

She became breathless and her fingers pulled at his hair. He was relentless as he wiggled his tongue around her bud, circling her into a cyclone of gratification.

With a soft cry Jemma came with accelerated surprise and he felt her legs stiffen as she sucked in air, breathing out an absolutely pornagraphic moan.

His eyes shot open.

“Did you...?”

“Yes,” she panted, “Come here.”

He stood up, still fully clothed, the sounds of her climax still ringing in his ear, and she pulled him in to her chest with one arm while the other hand went up the back of his shirt.

“Fitz,” she breathed again, hugging him to her, “Oh Fitz.”

He wrapped his arms around her, not fully yet settled on what had just happened and his mouth met her skin where her neck met her shoulder.

“Jemma.”

His utterance was laced with awe and she sighed as both her hands traversed the sides of his shirt, moving it up his torso.

He kissed at her collarbone as he pulled away, allowing his polo shirt to be rolled off, and as they made eye contact he blinked in the reality of what was happening.

“Jemma.”

She reached for his face and kissed him.

“Fitz that was amazing.”

“What are we doing?”

“What we want.”

She kissed him again and reached for his belt buckle and he sucked in a breath at the proximity of her hand to what had become his rock hard erection.

“You want this? Me?”

“Oh yes.”

She undid him and as she started to unzip his jeans she looked up.

“Do you?”

“Do I?”

“Do you want this? Me?”

“Yes. You.”

She smiled and pulled him in to her again, landing his mouth on hers as she yanked the sides of his denim down his hips.

Fitz stilled as he tried to kiss her, but the realization that they were about to be completely naked together, that she was going to see him, made it hard focus.

As it were he had to move, fumbling out of his jeans the rest of the way, and when he was done it started to dawn on him how brightly lit the room was and how clear the entire picture of his body would be to her, but as he looked up it ceased to matter.

Jemma stepped away from the door, pushing him towards the nearby chair, and as soon as his clothes were out of the way she urged him to sitting.

She stood in front of him and he could do nothing but stare. He licked his lips, trying to regain some moisture in his drying mouth and she placed her hands on his shoulders, her eyes full of lust and wonder.

“Fitz.”

He had no words.

“You’re amazing.”

She couldn't have been talking about him.

Jemma stared at Fitz, completely lost in the angles of his body, and as her eyes landed on his hardened length she pressed her mouth closed, eyeing it greedily.

“I want you,” she told him as her heart threatened to drop in to her stomach.

“Are you...I - is this what you want?” she asked again.

“Jemma - yes.”

He pulled her towards him, easing the fall as she landed in his lap, and as they connected a deep hum sang through his chest. She began to undulate on top of him and Fitz was struck with a burst of warmth through his groin.

“Jemma,” he groaned again against her lips.

She reached between them and he only had a second to register his knowledge that she was on birth control before she hiked up and positioned him at her opening. She grabbed the back of the chair with her other hand and sank on to him slowly, both of them sighing out immediate pleasure as they connected.

Fitz held her on top of him as she started to move, and it wasn't long before Jemma picked up pace. He was lost again in the sensation of her, completely unable to rationalize what was happening, and as she dropped up and down on top of him Fitz knew that he didn't have it in him to hold off for long.

Her words were non existent now as she uttered broken patterns of pleasured sound, and he rested his head on her shoulder as he started to buck up in to her. His body was in control again and he happily let it take over, wrapping his arms around her waist as he pumped in to her fast and deep.

She cried out again and every noise she made seemed to send him further towards the end.

His lips rested against the top of her chest and his breath painted her skin as Jemma moved on top of him. When Fitz's motions became rapid she clenched around him and he called out.

“Yes!” she replied, knuckles tight around the back of the chair.

The angle was perfect and every thrust from both of them sent him right where it mattered most. With each stroke to her Jemma sped toward her own secondary climax, and her thighs began to burn deliciously as she rutted on top of him with clamoring speed.

“Oh Fitz,” she uttered with familiarity, “Fitz, Fitz, Fitz.”

His name in her mouth like that was liable to make him come all on it's own, and as she hammered on top of him he felt the strain of his pending release and bit in to the skin above her breast.

Her resulting noise was salacious and he scraped his teeth against her again.

“Jemma,” he pained, eyebrows pulling together as he tensed.

“Fitz!”

In an instant the pulse of him against her sweet center peaked and a short whisper of white hot pleasure expelled out of her. As she clamped around him, her voice echoed in his head again, and he buried himself in to her, face scrunching against her breast bone as he thrust toward his own completion.

“Jemma, Jemma, Jemma, Jemma...”

He grunted as he came, both of them slowing immediately, and she collapsed on top of him as she tightened through the aftershocks, cooing out her waning pleasure as she nuzzled against the top of his head.

The chair was hard and became quickly uncomfortable, and Fitz winced as his body tried to move.

“Jemma, I’m sorry - I need to get up.”

Her eyes bobbed open and she moved quickly and regrettably, both of them experiencing the loss of their parting. As she stood up she felt a most urgent need to relieve herself, and she kissed him quickly.

“Bathroom,” she squeaked, grabbing his shirt and pulling it on as she tiptoed quickly to the en suite in her own room.

He went to the hallway bathroom in a daze, taking his shorts with him, and when he came out she was standing awkwardly in the doorway of her room.

She had a robe on now and handed him his shirt, fiddling with the ties of her cover. Neither of them said anything and as the moments drifted on he finally had to break the silence.

“I'm sorry.”

“What?”

“For the party. I'm sorry I was - I'm sorry I put up such a...fight...about everything.”

“Oh. I thought you...I'm...I'm sorry I didn't ask you first.”

He gave her a dorky smile and she felt the familiar ping of adoration that she always felt when he smiled - but everything about it was different now.

“Fitz...”

“Are we okay?” he asked.

“I think so...hopefully...better than okay...?”

“Yeah?”

She reached out for his hand and as she linked with it she pulled him closer and nodded.

He looked down at their interwoven fingers and when he looked up her expression was soft and romantic.

“Kiss me?”

He smiled.

“Even though there's no mistletoe?”

Jemma pulled him towards her lips and began to walk them in to her room.

“I don't think we need it anymore.”


End file.
